


"Wounds" Cullrian Mini-Bang 2015

by Meiilan



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, cullrian - Freeform, mentioning of Dorian's homophobic dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 23:08:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4895830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meiilan/pseuds/Meiilan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen was a trained warrior. He was a soldier. He had a lot of experiences with injuries. So it was only a matter of time, until he became aware of the wounds Dorian suffered from. He was not sure, if he could, but he would try to help him heal them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Wounds" Cullrian Mini-Bang 2015

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my two submission for the Cullrian Mini-Bang on tumblr. The project was to bring fanartists and -writers together to work on a joint project for the ship Cullrian. My artist-partner for this story was the-iron-fucking-bull.tumblr.com You can find the partner-art plus the complete story here: http://fyeahcullrian.tumblr.com/post/130056236016/cullrian-mini-bang-team-2-prompt-wounds If you like the artwork, please leave the artist a nice comment in their ask-box. He did a great job!
> 
> Comment-box is enabled for people without an AO3-Account. Feel free to let me know what you think of my stories. Your comments are my motivation! <3

Cullen was a trained warrior. He was a soldier. He had a lot of experiences with injuries. He knew how long a broken limb needed to heal and how much longer until the injured soldier was fully ready for battle again. He knew of the many side symptoms that came with battle injuries. A cut caused by a dirty sword or knife could get inflamed and that could lead to wound fever. A Templar that got caught in a magical blast often suffered from the after-effects many month after the incident, long after all visible wounds were healed or had turned to scar-tissue. But he also knew of injuries of the mind, had experienced some of them first hand even. Getting caught in a nightmare, watching your comrades getting slaughtered, being tortured, all that could leave nasty wounds in your sanity. Wounds which usually took much longer to heal, than injuries of the body. A reason for that might be the fact, that there were no healers for that, no medications, no certified treatment.

Cullen had his own share of wounds and scars. Many were long healed; some still tormented him with pain and agony. So, when he first met Dorian, with his smooth skin and his confident smile, he was a bit jealous. Not bitterly, but enough to feel conscious of it. For a while he even allowed himself the sin of pride. He was proud of the battles he had survived, of the scars that he beared. At least, when he compared himself to Dorian. Dorian, the spoiled nobleman, son of a rich household, never before forced into any hard labour or onto a battlefield. Dorian, who used fancy foreign oils to keep his skin smooth, whose tanned skin looked so beautifully exotic and exquisite, who complained loudly, when he had a minor wound, fearing it could leave a “nasty scar” on his perfect body. Dorian, who had never experienced injuries.

But Cullen was a trained soldier He was a warrior. He had a lot of experiences with pain. He must have been blind and deaf, if he wouldn’t have noticed the minute signs, the symptoms of wounds that were not yet healed. He saw the flicker of bitterness on Dorian’s features, when people purposefully ignored him, even after the Inquisitor had accepted him into his ranks, when the people, who should be his comrades, showed their distrust of the “Tevinter Magister” openly. He noticed the hint of desperation in his flourish speeches, whenever someone feigned polite interest, as if he was trying to weave a thick string of words between himself and his listener, before it was too late. At first he thought it was loneliness, maybe a bit of homesickness even. He had seen it among his fellow Templars in Kinloch Hold, those who came from the more distant parts of Ferelden. He had even battled it himself, when he was being transferred to Kirkwall. And he knew a cure for that. So, he had eventually approached the mage, when he saw him wistfully staring at the small chess-table in Skyhold’s garden. Soon, they had agreed on regular chess matches, or as regular as it was possible with both their responsibilities. And it seemed to work. Dorian opened up rather quickly. His charm and wit became intoxicating and Cullen was glad that he had managed to help and more even, that it seemed as if he had found a friend in Dorian.

But the closer they got, the more he became aware of how much more there was to Dorian’s bitterness. Just like when you take a closer look at your patient and notice that not only did he have cuts and bruises, he also had difficulties to breath, pain in his stomach, felt dizzy and nausea. There were certain topics, that caused the mage to immediately clam up: Family, home, love. Which was odd. Cullen had thought a spoiled child, such as him, would constantly brag with how great his family was, how much he got showered in love and attention. But whenever their conversations leaned into that direction, Dorian became evasive, agitated, and defensive even to a point where he became snippy. Cullen did not know what to do about that. He saw the symptoms, but he did not know what could cause these.

Furthermore, he began to notice quite troublesome symptoms about himself. He could explain the pleasantly warm feeling he had, whenever Dorian smiled at him. They were friends after all. But what was about that prickling feeling, when their fingers touched by accident? Why did his heart skip a bit, whenever their eyes met? When had it become impossible for him to look at Dorian’s smooth skin and his full lips and not imagine how they would feel under his own hands and lips? Eventually Cullen had to admit to himself that his symptoms had become embarrassingly clear: He had fallen for the mage. Well, that wasn’t too much of a problem, really. He had experience with unrequited infatuation. But the way Dorian flirted with him, complimented him, or just kept staring at him over the chess board with that faint smirk playing at his lips, planted a seed of cruel doubt in his mind: What if his feelings were not unrequited?

For a good while these thoughts managed to distract Cullen from Dorian’s troubles. Every day they met for their game of chess, Cullen wondered if he should tell Dorian of his feelings. Whenever Dorian invited him for a drink at the Herald’s Rest after their game was over, Cullen considered taking him up on his offer and he silently berated himself each time he declined, claiming he still had work to do.

It was an accident, albeit a lucky one, that finally caused him to admit his feelings to Dorian. One night Cullen had agreed to join Dorian in the tavern for a night cup. In retrospect he couldn’t really say what had caused him to say yes. But then again, it didn’t really matter anymore. They had stayed since long after sundown. Though they were hardly drinking anything, mostly just kept talking. They had talked about the cold winter, about Ferelden, Tevinter… almost everything. When they finally left, they were hardly tipsy and still engaged in deep conversation. It wasn’t until they were standing in front of the door that led to Dorian’s private chamber, that Cullen had realized he had walked the mage home, more or less. When it was time to say goodbye, he had dared his luck one more time. Leaning forward, he had pressed a quick chaste kiss onto Dorian’s lips. Which had caused the mage, to freeze in surprise, staring at Cullen with wide eyes. Straightening his back again, he had said calmly, despite the blush that crept up his cheeks: “I intend to court you Dorian, if I may. Please let me know of your decision, when you are ready. I will wait for your answer.” And with a bow and a goodbye he had left, while Dorian had been just standing there, looking at him with an expression of surprised wonder.

The next day had been busy for Cullen and he had not thought much on the fact, that Dorian was not contacting him right away. Surely such a revelation had to settle in first. When he didn’t hear of the mage for three more days though, he began to doubt his decision. Had he maybe been too straight forward? Was Dorian struggling to come up with a polite way to turn him down, right now? He had wanted nothing more, but to seek out the mage and ask him again. But he couldn’t do that, not after he had told Dorian so confidently that he would wait for his answer. After a whole week of silence between them, a soft knock on Cullen’s office-door in the early evening had finally brought the long awaited answer. Dorian had been unusually timid, as he had entered the room, restless to a point that he seemed frightened. But as Cullen had opened his mouth to apologize for his directness, Dorian had raised his hand to shut him up. Eventually Dorian had spoken, had told him that he had never been courted before, that this was not a thing in Tevinter, that he was not sure what Cullen expected of him, but that he would very much like to be courted by this ridiculous Fereldan man. Cullen had been so happy about the answer, he had kissed him again, longer this time, but still chaste, had invited him to dinner later that evening.

Cullen had been serious with his courtship: Dinner invitations, small gifts, such as books, flowers even a silk scarf one day, to protect him from the bitter Fereldan cold. He enjoyed courting Dorian, especially because it seemed, as if Dorian was enjoying to be courted like that. He always had this look of guarded surprise on his face, when Cullen offered him a gift, which turned quickly into a warm smile and a faint blush, once Cullen explained his reason for picking that particular gift. There were a few restrictions in their courtship, which Cullen learned rather quickly. Dorian was apparently no big friend of public shows of affection. When Cullen had tried to embrace him on the battlements, Dorian had backed away, awkwardly muttering what the people would think. When he had tried to take Dorian’s hand underneath a table, the mage had jumped so bad, he had spilled his ale over his chin. Cullen still walked Dorian to his quarters every evening though, and they kissed goodnight in front of Dorian’s door. The kisses weren’t as chaste, as they used to be and Cullen found it more and more difficult to pull back again and leave for his own cold office. But it was still wonderful and for a brief moment, Cullen believed this happiness would be ultimate.

-*-

But then a letter arrived in Skyhold and suddenly everything changed. Cullen was reminded of his initial worries about Dorian in a most upsetting way. He had invited Dorian for lunch that day, but just before they were due a messenger had brought him a small note, which said that Dorian wouldn’t make it, for he had to leave on an urgent business with the Inquisitor. Though he had been disappointed, he had not thought much of it, at first. After their return, he went to the mage right away, intending to invite him for dinner, to make up for the lost opportunity. But Dorian was oddly evasive, said he was too tired and had excused himself rather quickly, pretty much closing the door right in front of Cullen’s face. Cullen was so bewildered by Dorian’s behaviour, that he only realized that there had been tear stains on the mage’s cheeks, when he was already standing in front of his own office. Turning on his heels, he hurried back.

Knocking almost frantically on Dorian’s door, he called out to him: “Dorian, please let me in. I know something is troubling you and I want- I want to help. Please, I beg you! Tell me, what’s wrong!”

After a good minute of knocking and begging, Dorian finally gave in and opened the door for him. He was still avoiding Cullen’s eyes, as he tried to tell him that he was fine. Now that he paid attention to it, Cullen could see the fresh lines of kohl underneath the mage’s eyes, trying but failing to conceal how red they were. Dorian must have cried quite a bit. Cullen reached out for him, but the mage shied away from the touch. Taking a deep breath, the blonde took a step forward and pulled Dorian into his arms. One arm wrapped around his waist, he gently pushed the mage’s face towards his shoulder with a hand in his thick black hair.

“Don’t lie to me. You are obviously not fine. I won’t ask, if you really don’t want me to know, but please allow me to be there for you. I love you, Dorian.”

He felt the mage stiffen in his arms at his words and surprised, he realised he had never said those words before. Still he held on, his hand now gently rubbing over Dorian’s back in soothing circles.

“How can you say that so easily? To me of all people! A Vint… and a man!”

Dorian’s voice was painful, accusative even, but he still did not move away. Frowning confused, Cullen opened his mouth to answer, when Dorian interrupted him, his voice a bare whisper now, sounding so weak and vulnerable, it made his chest tighten painfully.

“My father wanted to meet me, today. It is… wrong to love a man in Tevinter. A disgrace to your entire family. It was quite a blow to him, when he found out that his son was not only gay, but also refused to play pretend. And today, he met me in order to convince me to come back home, to marry a woman for the sake of the family and return to a life of self-hatred.”

Now it was on Cullen to stiffen, holding his breath, he asked carefully: “And will you?”

“No.”

Cullen sighed in relief, but Dorian kept on talking.

 "When you enjoy the company of men, you cannot expect love in Tevinter. The best you will get is a quick dalliance behind closed doors, before you have to sneak out again in the dead of the night, expected to never speak of it again.“

Pushing Dorian away enough to look him in the eyes, Cullen said: “But you are not in Tevinter anymore. And I do love you, Dorian.”

And then, because he couldn’t bear the painful look on Dorian’s face anymore, he leaned in and kissed him, long and slow, trying to convey his feelings through that simple touch of their lips.

Pulling away again, Cullen asked, eyes locked with Dorian’s: “Will you let me love you?”

“Fasta vass”, Dorian exclaimed, as he threw himself into Cullen’s arms. “I’d be a fool, if I said ‘no’ to that!”

They kissed again, but this kiss was for Dorian’s feelings, hot, eager and with a dizzying passion, it caused Cullen to blush furiously, as he felt arousal awakening in his belly. When they pulled apart again, they were both panting, foreheads leaned together.

“Please don’t leave”, Dorian whispered hotly. “Stay for the night, I want- I need-”

“Yes”, Cullen answered, surprised by how hoarse his voice was with arousal already.

They kissed a third time. They somehow managed to make it to the bed, and undress each other, without breaking the kiss for longer than a few breaths. When Dorian’s legs hit the edge of the bed, he let himself fall down onto the sheets, Cullen following him eagerly. Kneeling over the mage, Cullen took in the sight of him underneath: Cheeks flushed, lips reddened and kiss-swollen and his perfect, tanned and scar-less body splayed out on the sheets seductively.

“Maker, you are gorgeous!” he breathed out, head dipping down to scatter kisses along the curve of Dorian’s shoulder.

The pleased hum, that earned him, encouraged him to keep going. He kissed a trail along his collarbones and over his chest. Stopping briefly at a nipple, he sucked on the temptingly pert nub. Which as rewarded with a gasp and a hand finding its way into his hair. He went further down, over Dorian’s stomach, letting his tongue trace the dip between the man’ abs. When he saw the ticklish twitch of the muscles underneath dark skin, a mischievous thought crossed his mind. Pressing his lips over Dorian’s belly-button, he blew a loud raspberry against the skin. Dorian yelped surprised and stared down at the other man incredulous.

"What are you doing!?”

Ducking his head, Cullen grinned sheepishly.

“Sorry, sorry! I just couldn’t help myself.”

Bowing down again, he apologized, by nibbling teasingly along Dorian’s hipbone. Whatever else the mage had to say on the matter was swallowed by a pleased moan and Dorian’s other hand  found its way into Cullen’s hair, pushing slightly, urging him on to go further down. And Cullen obliged. Gripping Dorian’s cock around the base, Cullen licked teasingly over the slit, before wrapping his lips around the head. Admittedly, he had not much experiences in these kind of exercises, but he made up for it with enthusiasm. Bobbing his head up and down on Dorian’s length, Cullen alternately attempted to suck, or pressed his tongue against the hot flesh in his mouth. Soon Dorian was unable to hold still, thrusting upwards, as his fingers gripped tighter onto the blond curls, trying to push him further down. Cullen let him, the hand around Dorian’s cock preventing him from getting choked accidentally. The rings on Dorian’s fingers caught in Cullen’s hair and he yelped slightly, at a painful tug. Immediately the mage released his grip and muttered an apology, as Cullen rose on his arms to move up to him again.

Dorian wrapped his arms around Cullen’s neck the moment, the man leaned down for a kiss. Both men groaned in unison, when Cullen rolled his hips down onto Dorian’s, causing their cocks to slide against each other. He kept up the rolling movement, as he began nibbling along Dorian’s jaw, the mage tilting his head to give him better access.

“I love you”, he muttered against the mage’s throat and Dorian shuddered.

“I love you”, he breathed against his ear, causing Dorian to produce a mewl laced with need.

“I love you”, he said again, as he placed a kiss to Dorian’s temple.

“Kaffas”, the mage cursed breathlessly. “Are you trying to drive me crazy, you insufferable man?”

His voice cracked, and Cullen realized he was close to tears.

“Enough with the teasing! I’m not a blushing virgin”, he huffed, causing Cullen to chuckle softly.

“Always so demanding”, he muttered, placing another tender kiss onto the mole underneath Dorian’s eye.

Bracing himself on one arm, he reached down with the other, to grab their cocks. Pressing them together tightly, he started to slowly fist them. Despite his own arousal rising, he kept his eyes fixed on Dorian’s face. He was just too beautiful a sight to miss up on. His dark hair, usually perfectly styled an groomed, was mussed up completely. Black curls were sticking to his sweaty forehead. His brows pulled together over tightly closed eyes. When Cullen dragged his thumb over their slits, spreading precum over the sensitive skin on top, Dorian’s long lashes fluttered and his full lips parted to let out an obscene moan.

“You are so beautiful like that”, Cullen whispered, his voice husky with his own arousal.

Feeling somewhat bashful at the praise, Dorian whined and turned his head to hide his face against Cullen’s chest. One hand was holding onto the blonde’s shoulder, while his other moved down long Cullen’s arm, eventually wrapping around the hand, that was still pumping their cocks in this maddeningly slow pace. He tried to urge Cullen on again, like he had done with his hands in his hair, tried to get him to move faster. But it was like moving a mountain. Cullen kept his pace mercilessly, and Dorian’s hand just got dragged along. He couldn’t even thrust up into Cullen’s hand, not with Cullen lying on his hip, pressing him down onto the sheets effectively.

He was not able to hold back the lewd sounds spilling from his lips, mewling and moaning against Cullen’s chest. The blonde’s own pants and grunts loud in his ears.

Eventually, finally the pace of Cullen’s hand increased his rhythm becoming erratic, an indication for Cullen’s nearing orgasm. Rising on his arm, Cullen retreated a bit from Dorian, thus stripping him of the possibility to further hide his face against him. He wanted to see him, when he came. Biting his lips, Dorian was completely lost in the sensation of heat coiling between his legs. That familiar pull made his toes curl and his back arch. His entire body was quivering with anticipation, eagerly awaiting that final push, that would plunge him into white bliss.

Bowing his head, Cullen pressed his forehead against Dorian’s. Fixing his eyes onto Dorian’s features, he whispered: “I love you so much.”

The result was breath taking. Dorian gasped, his eyes flying open, as a shudder rolled down his body. Arching his back towards Cullen, the mage moaned loud and long. His mind was washed away by waves of pleasure, his feet scrambling for leverage on the slippery bed sheets. Cullen kept pumping them, milking the cum from Dorian’s cum, adding it to the spit and precum that had served as lubrication so far. Just when it became almost too much for Dorian did Cullen finally come too. Breathing heavily, he added to the mess on their bellies and his hands, before slumping down onto Dorian.

While Dorian was still trying to catch his breath, Cullen began spreading butterfly kisses along the mage’s shoulder, muttering countless “I love you like a prayer into the skin, until Dorian couldn’t beat the warm feeling swelling in his chest.

Wrapping his arms around Cullen’s neck, he buried his burning face in the crook of his neck with a weak whimper.

"I love you, too”, he muttered, his voice choking on the tears, that finally broke loose, spilling from his eyes.

He had already cried, after his return to Skyhold, but that had been silent tears of bitterness, burning like acid on his cheeks and leaving nothing but a hollow feeling of emptiness. Now, still high from the afterglow and safely wrapped in Cullen’s embrace, it was completely different. He sobbed and howled loudly against Cullen’s shoulder. His tears came running and mingling grossly with snot from his nose and he was making a mess of himself and Cullen and this night, that was supposed to be nothing but pleasure. But Cullen didn’t mind. He just held him in his arms, hands rubbing soothing circles over his back. Gentle, scarred lips pressed firm kisses into Dorian’s hair, muttering soothing words and reminding him again and again of how much Cullen loved him.

When Dorian finally calmed down, he had a hiccup, his eyes were puffy, and kohl smeared everywhere. His head pounded and his nose was still running. But despite it all, he did not feel miserable. He felt exhausted. Tired from the battle he had fought, from his endless struggle of keeping up his mask of confidence. But he also felt safe and warm in Cullen’s embrace. And that frightened him. If he became too comfortable, if he felt too warm, it would only hurt all the more, when he woke up in his cold, empty bed again.

“’m sorry”, he mumbled, pointlessly wiping at his eyes while he attempted to pull away. “I made a mess.”

But Cullen just pulled him back, tucking Dorian’s head against his chest, under his chin.

“It’s fine, I’ll get us something to clean up in a moment”, he muttered drowsily.

Smiling softly, despite the fear still gripping at his chest, Dorian shot back: “No, you won’t. You’re already half asleep, you big lummox.”

“No, I won’t” Cullen agreed, his amusement still audible through his sleepiness.

“Let go of me, so I can get us cleaned up.”

“Mhm… in a moment.”

“I hope you don’t think I’m going to wait until this mess dried up!”

Sighing a bit disappointed, Cullen finally released the protesting mage.

“Fine. You go get us some water and a rag and I strip down the bed sheets. Do you have a change?”

“In the trunk”, Dorian answered, already getting up from the bed, to go to get some water heated.

When he returned with a water-bowl and a washing-rag, Cullen was still in the middle of putting the fresh sheets on the bed, so he took the time to wash his face and apply some soothing salve to the swollen areas around his eyes. He didn’t want to look like an utter disaster the next morning. Once Cullen was done, he moved up behind the mage and took the rag from his hand. Dipping it into the warm water, he began to wash the sweat of Dorian’s back and arms. The gentleness with which Cullen treated him, made the mage almost purr, his knees suddenly feeling weak. When he was satisfied with his work, Cullen turned Dorian around to continue on his front. When the warm, damp rag slid down over Dorian’s stomach and towards his cock, Cullen leaned in to kiss him slow and deep, letting their tongues slide against another in a lazy dance.

Snatching the rag back, Dorian returned the favour, rubbing Cullen clean, until he deemed him good enough, to take him back to bed. Once they were snuggled underneath the blanket, legs entangled, Dorian felt pleasant sleepiness wrapping around his consciousness ness again. Not wanting to leave matters unresolved, he forced himself to stay awake.

“I want to apologize, for all this drama”, he began, but was cut off by Cullen’s sleepy mumble.

“’s fine. I love you.”

Idly wondering, if that warm feeling swelling in his chest, whenever he heard Cullen say those words, would ever cease, he nodded and closed his eyes. He still heard Cullen mutter: “next time we’ll try it without tears, yes?” Marvelling in the spark of joy, at the thought that Cullen did want to continue this, Dorian finally fell asleep.

-*-

Cullen woke again early, long before dawn. He felt lazy and comfortable, the warm body pressed tightly against his side being reassuring and calming in a way, he had not deemed possible. Turning, careful not to wake Dorian, Cullen moved to face the man. Dorian had his head rested on Cullen’s shoulder and he could feel the sticky feeling of drool between his skin and Dorian’s chest. Looking at his features, so peaceful when asleep, the Fereldan felt an odd feeling of protectiveness swelling in his chest. He knew now, that Dorian, though blessed with unmarred skin and seemingly impeccable self-confidence did carry wounds. Nasty open cuts that kept bleeding and draining him, even when he was lying in his lover’s arms.

Cullen was no healer and there was no certified method to heal wounds of the soul, but he knew he had to try. He would do all he could do, use all he knew, to heal these wounds in Dorian’s heart, to assure they left no scars that would cripple him for the rest of his life. Dorian deserved to be well, to be happy. He deserved to be loved. Cullen knew that and he would try his hardest, to assure that eventually Dorian knew too.


End file.
